


last words of a shooting star

by Skullsnsunflowers



Series: lemon boy(s) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Fluff, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Family Dynamics, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Hatred, Sickfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), no beta we die like philza's sanity, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27934498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullsnsunflowers/pseuds/Skullsnsunflowers
Summary: ''He knows healing isn’t a 5 day process, and that if he were to unravel the tangled mess of emotions that brought him to this it wouldn’t be a pretty site. Even so, he hopes that by Christmas he’ll form some semblance of a person again''----------- Set after Tommy’s exile, canon divergence where techno and phil are like 'o shit ur coming with us' bc that kid needs therapy and I rlly want sleepy bois inc to reunite. much hurt, much comfort, enjoy u gremlins! this fic is based on thier rp personas and is in no way linked to how they are irl !(formerly titled as ''my body's made of crushed little stars'' dw it's the same fic lmao)
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, No Romantic Relationship(s), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), theyre family ur honour
Series: lemon boy(s) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093757
Comments: 58
Kudos: 1479
Collections: Cute MCYT





	1. this is home

**Author's Note:**

> title from the mitski name w/ the same name bc it's as chaotic as the process of writing this.  
> shippers dni or i will boil ur teeth  
> Tw for; suicidal thoughts/references, self worth issues and all that stuff, not to be glorified, stay safe 💖

**12.12.XXXX**

The ravine seemed to drag on for ages, and Tommy let it the sight fade, like the faint chatter of ghostbur alongside him, whose presence was both comforting and impossibly cold to bear.

He wasn’t really there, not really. Rather, it felt more like he was floating, and the worn feet that stumbled through the dirt didn’t really belong to him. His throat was parched, his palms bleeding, and yet nothing could compare to the bitter ache of being so utterly _alone._

But he deserved it, he’d always deserved it. In the end, everyone left, and he should have known to expect it.

Still, he felt the phantom feelings of a warm cup of tea nestled in his hands, of his brothers tucked into his side as dewdrops slowly dripped from the roof, of a warm July day amongst flower fields and woven grass friendship bracelets and a smile that he knew like the back of his hand-

There was no point in dwelling on it, though. He’d destroyed everything he’d touched and L’manburg was no exception.

Grabbing his pickaxe, now bloodied from overuse, Tommy made a promise then and there, sealed with desperation, that he would be useful. Somehow, even a damaged existence like his could work. And work he would, until his skin would tear.

_He’d show them that was worth something, in the end._

A flash of transperant grey watched with a careful distance, and perhaps if Tommy looked closer he’d see the sheer concern etched into Wilbur’s pale face.

14.12.XXXX

And maybe when the wars were nothing but legends to go by, he’d fade away too.

Maybe they’d tell stories of corruption and grandeur for him

But right now, the thought of disappearing quietly is appealing

Tommy stretches his hand towards the cliff’s edge

He murmurs a familiar quote, and it drags him away

‘‘It’s never my time to die’’

He still feels the warmth of the lava as he turns away

**16.12.XXXX**

His cheeks are sunken and his clothes are torn.

_~~He’s nothing but a ragged, dirty child~~ _

For a while, he sleeps uneasily, but the peace is something he doesn’t want to leave

He wonders what Phil would think, of him rotting away in a forest somewhere, and that’s enough for him to wake up to muffled sobbing.

A familiar cape is draped onto him, and although he can now register the distraught silhouettes of Technoblade and Phil, but he lets himself be selfish, smiling as a ghostly hand latches onto his own.

They’ll need to talk about this in the morning, but for now, he knows he’s safe.

**18.12.XXXX**

The Polaroid of the Christmas tree is heavy in his hand, but he refuses to let go.

He refuses to look up until Techno tilts his head up gently, eyes creasing in sorrow

Instead, he stares at the bluish hue of his arm.

The storm that night was the worst of the season, and he’d spent the day following lost in a deep fever.

Phil tells him this with a wretched expression, almost pleading

‘You could’ve died, Tommy!’

Tommy bites back the response that _maybe he should’ve_ forcefully, not sure if he could take the devastation that he knew would cloud the room if those words left his mouth

He can hardly recognize himself anymore, somewhere he lost the brightness of his youth and it shows in his sickly face.

Maybe it’s better that way

**20.12.XXXX**

There’s a bowl of porridge on the table by the time he drags himself out of bed, and he stares it down as though it’s personally hurt him.

Ghostbur perks up as he sits down; looking expectantly as Tommy reluctantly dips his spoon in.

Although the meal is pleasantly sweet, he can’t bring himself to swallow it without choking on the thoughts of his burden here.

The same feeling arises when he watches Dream loom over their front door, angrily calm as he motions towards Tommy, spitting words of war and conflict and trespassing.

The same feeling arises when Philza stands his ground, never hesitating to counter every point and insisting that Tommy would stay with him for as long as it took.

(Deep down, he knows that Dream is just as broken. Despite the mask, he holds the same fear of being left behind.)

One things rings clear for him, all the same, and that is that he doesn’t deserve this.

Not the porridge, or the house he’s in, and definitely not his family.

He’s not sure why, but he mumbles this to Technoblade as the two water the flowers that found their way to the farm. It was surprisingly warm, for a December evening, the kind of warmth that Tommy would never think he’d feel again.

Techno says nothing, just pulling his brother into a hug, and when he speaks, his usually monotone voice is thick with tears.

‘‘Kid, you deserve the world’’

**21.12.2020**

Ranboo sends him a letter, as expected, with promises of letting Tommy come to L’manburg for Christmas, and offers to deliver a letter to Tubbo.

Tommy brushes aside the dust gathered on his parchment and writes.

‘Hey Tubbo,

 ~~I’m sorry,~~ It’s been a while, huh?

~~I didn’t mean to screw things up, honest~~

I don’t blame you if you don’t forgive me ~~, I don’t either~~

 ~~I hope~~ I’ll be back for Chrsitmas, but it’s not so bad here.

I’ve got ~~my family~~ that loveable idiot ghostbur and big man Philza looking out for me now, and Technoblade’s been hanging around a lot more too.

It’s just as well, because I spent my first week ~~staring into lava pools~~ stumbling all over the place!

Anyways, I hope you’re doing well. ~~I just want my friend back~~ Hopefully we’ll meet again, maybe’

The words sound far too casual, even for himself. (He’d never been one for emotional talk anyways.)

He doesn’t end up sending the letter, or even responding to Ranboo. But looking back as Technoblade and ghostbur dragged in a ragged pine tree, leaving a trail of dirty snow, he couldn’t help but laugh along to Phil’s indignant scoldings.

**23.12.2020**

Tommy’s not sure what brought him here yet again.

He’d been doing so well, but all it took was one ill-timed comment to send him running back to the edge.

Last night, he’d overheard the tiny whispers that circled their home

‘‘We cant keep him here forever, Dream’s threatening-’’ ‘‘We are _not_ abandoning your brother!’’

‘‘It’s not abandonment, he’s a liability-‘’

_So he was a burden. Despite how hard he’d tried he was still useless-_

Shaking his head, he trembled forward, feeling the heat blare up as he walked closer to the magma. He’d missed the way it burnt his skin.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted. If it was to disappear into those red pools or simply stare.

Outstretching a hand, he was mesmerized by the crimson, and his feet tethered.

He didn’t want to do this, not really.

But something told him he’d have to.

He plunged forward-

And felt two strong arms grab him back to safe ground.

A chorus of whispered, broken apologies filled the air and Tommy turned, confused, only to find a beady-eyed porcelain mask staring back at him.

Two broken boys stayed trembling in each other’s arms that night.

**24.12.2020**

Tommy woke up to the smell of gingerbread wafting through the house and a faint carol playing on the radio. Nestled by three protective pairs of arms he no longer felt the need for a fire’s warmth.

Philza gently ran a hair through his curls

‘‘Go to sleep, we’ll be here when you wake up’’ he murmured

And as Tommy closed his eyes he knew that no matter what happened tomorrow, he’d be home for Christmas.


	2. but lately ive been crying like a tall child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘‘You’re no soldier, Toms. Just a child who had to grow up too fast’’  
> \-------------------   
> or; techno punches dream, and tommy has a(nother) conversation about self worth with his equally emotionally repressed brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for self deprecation and all that and possible triggers for a mention of disordered eating(?) idk but stay safe babes <3   
> \-----------title from mitski's first love/ late spring bc i think it's fitting and also kinda funny in regards to tommy lmao

\--------------------------------------- 23.12.XXXX

Dream didn’t know what to do.

He’d always had variables to depend on and nothing to lose.

However, when he stared at the shattered boy in his arms, there wasn’t a single logical thought he could fall back on. The consequences, the remnants of his war stared him in the eye, and Dream found him unable to face it.

His breath caught as the bushes behind him rustled, and he whipped his head around, shielding the frigid, trembling boy in his arms, although a shame burned within him that told him he didn’t deserve to.

The cold yet panicked glare of Technoblade pierced through him, silencing the air.

For a moment, the only sounds heard in the clearing were Tommy’s soft sobs.

In an instant, Technoblade bolted towards him, hands on his sword hilt

‘‘Get your grimy hands off him’’ he hissed, and Dream found himself backing away.

Techno instantly swooped down, urgently shaking his brother’s shoulders

‘‘Tommy? Tommy! I’m so sorry- are you hurt anywhere?’’

Tommy shook his head, and although he no longer had the heart wrenchingly sad expression he’d worn before, the dull gleam in his eyes wasn’t any better.

Techno sighed, glancing up at the sky, where the sun had long disappeared into hiding

‘‘Get some sleep. We’re going home’’ he whispered, slipping in his coat over the younger’s shoulders

As soon as Tommy dozed off, a switch flipped as Techno snapped his head up, aiming a potent look at Dream.

‘‘What. Happened?’’ he growled.

\---------------------

Tommy was floating

Waves of magma ebbed around him and he drifted, engulfed in unbearable heat

But that wasn’t right- the heat was overwhelming, but not the sharp sting he’d expected when he fell into those ruby depths

No, this was a different place, it had the comforting warmth that he’d craved, but it just wasn’t enough.

He wanted to burn.

\------------------------

Techno felt a rage bubble up inside of him, so strong it choked him.

Red hot anger swirled in his thoughts, because it was worlds easier to be furious at the people that brought his little brother to his breaking point than confront the reason Tommy had stood among those barren cliff tops just hours earlier.

The rational part of him (that sounded oddly like Philza) cautioned him as he clenched his fists hard enough to ache. Every other cell in his body screamed at him to deck Dream hard enough to break his mockery of a mask.

He swung his scarred knuckles in a blur, and instantly he was looking down at a green hood as blood coated his palms.

Rational just wasn’t an option anymore

‘‘ **Look at what you’ve done you stupid smug asshole! Or does it even matter to you?** ’’

He let his red hot rage spew out in a barrage, but all that he could feel was a deep, aching sadness.

Dream didn’t fight back, and maybe that was for the best as Techno felt the beginnings of a shuddering sob overwhelm him as his hands suddenly dropped back to his sides.

There was no anger left, just a cold void that made his stomach lurch when he remembered the empty look on his brother’s face. None of the passion, or fire, or spark that made tommy who he was.

Just two dull eyes reflecting broken promises.

Techno was sure if he’d let the feeling growing in his chest to continue, it would break him.

‘‘ **Get out.** ’’ He snarled at Dream.

The man in question stumbled up, unnaturally quiet as he closed the door behind him without a word.

Techno instantly slumped down into a chair, all the fight in him instantly draining.

Nevertheless, he took watch beside the couch, not finding it in himself to look at Tommy’s pallid face.

The kid didn’t look like he was even sleeping, rather fighting an invisible battle in the way his eyebrows furrowed, stiff like he was ready to wake up to the sound of gunfire at any instant.

_God, how had he not noticed?_

\-------------------------------------------------

The warmth faded away into shocking cold, and Tommy awoke with a start.

A blurry figure in front of him raised their hands of them calmly, but he knew from painful experience that trusting people when he was vunerable was never an option.

He closed his eyes to compose himself as the memories flooded in, of hushed conversations and lava pools and a cartoonish smile.

He opened his eyes to see Technoblade hovering over him, looking hesitant.

The man didn’t speak, thankfully, as he rose to get something out of the kitchen, although he looked like he’d aged a thousand years .

A gingerbread aroma soaked the room and Techno emerged with a tray loaded with cookies, 2 mugs juggled in his other hand.

It seemed Tommy wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to talk about it. Fine. They’d play this game as long as it took, anything to wipe off the sad ache that was evident in his brother because of him.

The cold still stung, but the logs by the fireplace were dwindling and even if it could be restocked, Tommy didn’t want to be more of a nuisance than he already was.

Techno gestured towards the plate

‘‘Arent you hungry?’’

Truth be told, Tommy was ravenous. But the cookies were a lot more hassle to make or trade than the usual foods they could farm out here.

‘‘When did you get these?’’ he rasped, wincing at the wobble in his voice

Techno shrugged, nudging the tray forward

‘‘I know you liked sweets, and I managed to find a recipe’’

‘‘I thought you said we didn’t have much to cook from how far away we’ve moved from town’’

 _The whole reason they had to move back to Phil’s was because of him, anyways_ , thought Tommy bitterly

‘‘It’s nice to indulge once in a while.’’ Techno gave a rare half smile

‘‘Besides, this will probably pale in comparison to your Christmas gifts.’’ He chuckled, continuing in a rare moment of emotion

‘‘We’ve… missed you, kid. Phil’s brighter than I’ve seen him in months. Trust me, you deserve more than we can give you ’’

And suddenly the air in the house was suffocating. Tommy was sure that everything he’d touch would crumble at his hands. The embers of the beginning fire at the hearth, the mugs of steaming cocoa, just the sheer safety and warmth of his house was something that he was sure he’d destroy.

_He needed to get out. He needed to-_

Techno was holding him like he was made of glass shards, threatening to drop to the floor and flood it with sharp edges at any moment.

And the warmth in his house was suffocating him. It was sickly sweet, not the scorching allure of lava, but something delicate and welcoming, something he was contaminating.

He snapped back into awareness, to frantic words

‘‘-Tommy? Can you hear me?’’

Tommy gave a shuddering breath and nodded, letting his head droop on the other’s shoulder.

‘‘I’m sorry’’ he mumbled

‘‘You have nothing to be sorry about’’ assured Techno

The silence stretched out for a while, before Techno sighed, fiddling with his brother’s blond locks, in the way that showed his nervousness.

‘‘Can you tell me why you reacted that way?’’ he asked, far more stiffly and cautious than usual.

 _Can you tell me why you were on those clifftops tonight? Can you please tell me it’s not why I think?_ Lay the unspoken questions

‘‘I dunno- I guess I just- I don’t feel like Im worth any of this, really’’ muttered Tommy, gesturing vaguely around the house.

Techno sighed in frustration

‘‘We’ve been over this you absolutely-’’ he urged, stopping midway when Tommy flinched at his tone of voice

‘‘Sorry. You’re just so much more than you believe. ‘’ His eyes softened

‘‘And it… hurts when you don’t see that’’

Tommy found his eyes pricking with tears, refusing to let them fall

‘‘But I’m not even doing anything! Im not fighting or defending or-‘’

‘‘You don’t have to do any of that to be worth of love.’’

Tommy shook his head, gritting his teeth ‘‘I’m- well I _was_ a soldier’’

‘‘You’re no soldier, Toms. Just a child who had to grow up too fast’’ Techno borderline pleaded, looking as if the statement caused him physical pain to say.

Tommy just let his eyes slip shut with a few stray tears.

‘‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore.’’

‘‘Tommy-’’

‘‘ _Please_ , Techno _. I just don’t want to remember_.’’

‘‘..Okay.’’

They laid there for a while in uncomfortable silence, neither of them able to meet the other’s face.

‘‘ It‘s cold’’ whispered Tommy, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the heat he was accustomed to or the suffocating mood.

Wordlessly, Techno pulled aside his signature cape, tucking it around the younger’s’ shoulders and clasping his frigid hands.

The last thing Tommy heard before he drifted into sleep was the distinct tick of the clock shifting to 12am on Christmas Eve.

It wasn’t exactly an ideal scene, the sadness in the house seeped out in it’s cracks, in the forgotten plate of food, in Techno’s shifting eyes, the blood on his knuckles or the tearstains on Tommy’s face.

Still, it was healing, albeit slowly, Techno mused.

 _I wasn’t there for him before but I sure as hell will be now_ , he thought, with a ferocity rivaling the sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o shit lads it's time to write things i needed to hear into yet another fic, this is a+ coping right
> 
> i sound like a motivational speaker but yall, know that u r worthy of love no matter what. even if all u did today was make it through the day u r rad ✨❤😤


	3. those arent meant to bend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carefully, Phil wraps an arm around the other’s head, which is worrying warm again, and pulls him closer.  
> A final slam of snow rattles against the door, and in the following silence, Tommy clutches onto his hand.
> 
> ‘‘Don’t go’’ he whispers, and Phil feels his heart being hollowed out.
> 
> \--------------------- Philza reminisces on war and family// i interrupt ur usual angst with dad!phil and a mini sickfic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: slight implied/referenced suicide (non graphic)  
> title from oh klahoma by jack stauber  
> -note that the first scene is non chronological and set on the 18th

**18.12.2020**

There is weariness in his bones when Phil looks at his youngest son.

His youngest son, with crimson splattered on his clothes and hunched into himself at the edge of the couch.

The war took its toll on everyone, but it hurts like a twisting knife seeing it break someone so young.

_but they’d all been young, hadn’t they? None of them were ever supposed to be there._

He shakes the thought off and reaches out a hand to check the other’s temperature.

But then, Tommy flinches.

He moves so violently that his head crashes against the wall, but he doesn’t notice, fear alight in his eyes and lost in delirium.

Philza isn’t an angry man.

But when he looks into Tommy’s eyes and finds caution and terror instead of youthful innocence, his rage could set the house alight.

He wants to scream.

Instead, he cups Tommy’s face in his, grasping his frigid hands, and murmurs reassurances in his tangled hair.

‘‘It’s alright, you’re ok. You’re safe. We’re safe.’’ He mumbles, and he can’t tell whether the words are for Tommy or him

His son freezes in his arms like cornered prey, and for a moment Phil finds himself backing away, until Tommy melts into the embrace. He’s shivering almost violently, and there’s a familiar panic in his eyes that mirrored Wilbur in his last days.

Phil’s breath catches in his throat at the comparison, but he pushes it aside to heat a bowl of stew. His kid looks like he would break apart any minute, not just emotionally. To see those ragged clothes hang off of such a tiny frame was painful.

When he handed the bowl over, a familiar anger sparked in Tommy’s eyes that was both relieving and worrying.

He eyed the soup warily

‘‘Well?’’ he challenged, eyes narrowing

‘‘Are you going to taunt me with it?’’

Phil merely shakes his head, placing the bowl down on a table.

‘‘Of course not. It’s yours.’’ He simply says.

Inwardly, he is boiling with wrath at the conditions that could’ve hardened his son enough to believe that everything was out to get him. But anger isn’t what Tommy needs, so he looks away silently as the younger hesitantly reaches for the food.

Phil busies himself with repairs, the weather’s harsher these days and although he doesn’t mind it he knows Tommy hates the cold. He can feel the other eyeing him suspiciously, as he does so, as he hums to the faint carols buzzing from their ancient radio.

Tommy winces as the snowstorm picks up again, almost jolting out of bed.

The whirls of white cloud the windows rapidly, colliding loudly into each wall, loud enough to make Tommy glare at the room around him as if something will jump out of the corners any minute.

It would be funny to see the suspicion on such a young face if he wasn’t shivering and becoming more afraid as the seconds ticked by.

Carefully, Phil wraps an arm around the other’s head, which is worrying warm again, and pulls him closer.

A final slam of snow rattles against the door, and in the following silence, Tommy clutches onto his hand.

‘‘Don’t go’’ he whispers, and Phil feels his heart being hollowed out.

‘‘I would never-’’ he chokes, aghast at the very thought.

‘‘I can be useful, I’ll be quiet, please just don’t leave me _alone_ ’’ slurs Tommy, on the edge of a sob and now fully immersed in a fever haze.

‘‘I would never, Tommy. I would _never_ abandon you, this is your home’’

Tommy falls silent, and Phil clutches onto him like a lifeline.

Techno stands aloof in the corner, worry almost emanating off of him and eyes wet, all hidden by his signature boar-skulled mask.

And ghostbur will eventually hover in the air like a lost spirit, humming an echoed tune.

It’s heart wrenchingly different and yet a familiar routine all at once, and Phil’s heart clutches onto a shred of hope.

They’re going to be ok.

\---------------------

**23.12.2020**

But this, this is no routine; this is nothing like he’s ever recounted.

Physical wounds, bruised knuckles and frostbite were all more than usual for him. Despite the cold fear that rushed down Phil every time one of his family got hurt, it was numbed by the reassurance that he could fix it.

There is no book in his library that will teach him how to stitch together the cracked remains of his family, there is no step-by-step guide of what to do when your son strays to an almost unthinkable last resort.

All Phil can do is wait in the frigidness of their house, and though he knows that he is lucky to never feel the desperation that overtook Tommy that night, he’ll try his best to understand.

So, as much as it kills him to say, he speaks in the silence

‘‘What happened today?’’

More thick silence follows, so Phil grinds the words out once again, keeping his voice even and calm.

‘‘I’m sorry, kiddo, but we need to talk about it eventually. Can you tell me why you went up there?’’

_~~Was it something we did?~~ _

Tommy’s expression mirrors his own, but eventually, he uncurls from his position across the hearth.

‘‘I don’t know- I cant explain it, really. I mean, I didn’t want to _die_ ,’’ he croaks, both of them flinching as the harshness of the last word sunk in

‘‘But?’’

‘‘Staying when I knew I was a burden to you was so _hard_ and I just wanted it all to stop-’’

Phil could pinpoint the moment when the cracks in his porcelain heart widened again, dropping to the floor.

‘‘I don’t think I need to tell you just how wrong that was- because you are such a big part of our lives, Toms. And you always will be.’’

Tommy shrugged, eyes shifting

‘‘Someone said…’’

‘‘And that someone was wrong. Dream’s stupid war isn’t going to make us give on you.’’

Tommy hesitantly shifted forward, letting Phil toss a few branches into the fire and then drape his robe over the two of them. (At this point, Tommy’s cupboard was half oversized clothes from other people. No one was complaining though.)

‘‘Thank you’’ he rasped.

‘‘Don’t thank me for something I should’ve said long ago’’ murmured Phil

He would wait forever, if it was by his son’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry for the late chapter. this fic was originally a vent so the first draft of this ended up being triggering for me to write and probably for other people as well so i had to rewrite it, but i know that this could seem adrupt/rushed. it is incredibly important to explore and express mental health, and im sorry if it seems like ive skimmed over such a significant topic, but i feel it would be harmful to myself.
> 
> on a lighter note, i was also late bc it was my birthday on sunday and i was binging ac:nh lmao
> 
> ik ive rambled a lot but today i want u to be proud of yourself for making it this far. it was hard but u did it 💖


	4. rest assured, that christmas saves the year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it wouldnt be the sleepy bois inc without tearful reunions and ugly christmas sweaters.
> 
> (look ik it's late but dont let this flop lmao)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha imagine posting a christmas chapter 10 days after, what kind idiot would do that amirite   
> \-- fr sorry, a lot's been going on with the holidays, new year and school starting again, i hope everyone has a rad year tho!!! we deserve it lol
> 
> *title from twenty one pilot's ''christmas saves the year''

**25.12.20XX**

As soon as Tommy awoke to faint laughter and a cinnamon aroma, he knew it was Christmas.

Wait-

His eyes shot open and he blearily stumbled off the coach to peer at a fraying calendar.

Sure enough, the date was marked in harsh red, and a wave of something vaguely like empty disappointment washed over him.

The last thing he could remember was falling asleep just as dawn broke, tear stains still fresh on his face. Not the worst Christmas eve he’d had, but quite close.

He vowed to keep quiet, nevertheless. There was probably already conflict going on ( _because of you-_ , his mind hissed) and it was only one day of the year.

A familiar yell snapped him out of his daze, and he looked up just in time to see Techno sporting a shit-eating grin, holding quite possibly the ugliest hat he’d ever seen.

With a belated scream, Tommy failed to duck away and had a mess of neon yellow tinsel, googly eyes, and wonky reindeer antlers.

It would’ve been impressive if it wasn’t so _ugly_

‘‘What was _that_ for?!’’ Tommy sputtered, trying to tug the mess out of his hair as Techno chuckled.

‘‘Come on, get into the spirit, just wait until you see the sweater.’’

Tommy stopped his brawl with the tinsel and paled.

‘‘…Sweater?’’

‘‘Yep!’’ chimed in a third voice

As if on cue, Wilbur floated in with a package that was practically bursting at the seams.

‘‘I made it myself!’’ he announced

He handed it to Tommy with a cheery grin, oblivious to the other’s disgust.

‘‘Oh- I- You… shouldn’t have, Wilbur’’ Tommy mumbled, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal a lump of multi-coloured wool.

When the sweater was fully unveiled, he was sure his eyes were watering, not out of happiness but by the sheer hideousness of it. Neon fabric was stitched together so badly that it could just barely pass as clothing.

And finally, the straw that broke the camel’s back, the dreaded, obligatory Christmas pun.

 _‘How can you tell that Santa is real? You can always sense his presents!’_ declared the felt letters, and Tommy felt his sanity slip away.

But Ghostbur was looking at him with such joy that he could only force a smile.

‘‘Great. It’s, yknow- Just what I wanted’’ he said, ignoring Techno’s howls of laughter

‘‘I knew you’d like it!’’ Ghostbur crowed, immediately whizzing out of the room as quickly as he’d come in.

Tommy sighed, flopping down next to the fireplace.

Techno followed, wordlessly pulling out a hairband and braiding the other’s hair.

The unanswered question hung in the air, until-

‘‘So are we going to L’manburg today?’’ Tommy mumbled

Techno shrugged

‘‘It’s your choice, not anyone elses’s.’’

Biting at his nails, Tommy finally replied ‘‘I…don’t really think I’m ready just yet’’

He shuddered, thinking of blank eyes and the exasperatedness in everyone’s gaze, of the betrayal he still held, and suddenly the giant tree didn’t feel like a reason enough to go back

Unexpectedly, Techno didn’t look upset at all, if anything he seemed relieved.

‘‘That’s alright kid.’’ He said, finishing up the braid with a final twist.

‘‘We’ll celebrate right here, just like old times, hm?’’

Admist twinkling lights and radio carols, Tommy never felt safer.

But the mood had almost been lackluster. Sure, they weren’t too big on festivities back when it was just the four of them, but it was still a little too casual. Almost as if they were waiting for something.

Still, he wasn’t complaining. The less of a fuss made over him, the better.

He lazily twirled the sparring sword case he’d gotten from Techno, and although his brother had been apathetic when handing the gift, there was pride in his eyes when Tommy placed his sword in the embroidered hilt alongside his.

Phil had given him a gardening starter pack, and he was currently being forced into a round of terrible carol karaoke.

But Tommy couldn’t help but feel like there was an empty space, something he couldn’t quite place.

The doorbell rung, and before he could turn around Phil nudged him back into the house, nervously smiling. When Tommy looked to Techno he couldn’t meet his gaze, and when footsteps followed his heart dropped to the floor.

Familiar, yet distant faces met his eyes, and there was a vague clicking sound that echoed in his ears.

Not just any sound, the sound of a compass needle creaking and whirling after days of being still.

The sound of two needles in perfect sync

‘‘Tubbo-’’

‘‘Tommy.’’

The world came to a halt.

The distance between them seemed impossibly long, but Tubbo closed it with a single shaky step.

He hesitantly raised an arm out, the motion feeling both distant and comforting.

A silence, a blur of faces watching with uncertainty.

And Tubbo tightened his arm around his friend, mumbling a string of crackling words

‘‘I’m sorry.’’ He rasped.

‘‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Tommy I didn’t- you don’t how much I regretted it’’

Tommy, still faintly feeling like this was a fever dream, clung back, meeting the eyes of Philza, who gave him a nervous but reassuring smile.

‘‘It’s ok’’ he said, remembering the many times the words had been echoed back to him.

‘‘You’re alright. _We’re_ alright, we’ll figure it out.’’ He continued, déjà vu flooding in.

He wasn’t quite sure how long they stayed there, reminiscing in the safety from being in his brother’s arms after so much silence.

All he knew was, when he let go, Tubbo was smiling his signature grin, and Tommy’s head felt lighter than it had ever been, and suddenly he was younger and naïve, where his biggest worries were never wars or isolation but running away from whatever beehive his friend had provoked this time.

Logically, he knew that he’d lost that childhood lightheartedness after the first time he’d seen blood spilled.

But finally, Tommy had found the warmth he’d been chasing after.

Tomorrow, they’d talk and tears would most definitely be spilt, but for now, he felt giddy with excitement (and he wasn’t going to ugly sob in front of half of L’manburg in their backyard, thank you very much)

The Christmas lights brightened, and Tommy’s smile brightened with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hat+ sweater were inspired from a real abomination i found in a daiso store this year. kinda wanted to buy it just to be a sadist tbh.  
> 1 more chapter!!! o gosh what happens next :0
> 
> today, i want u guys to remember to set realistic expectations! new year's might put pressure on u to be perfect or have a new start but u are loved no matter what


	5. our hometown's in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke it was full of a tired happiness, wise beyond his years.  
> ‘‘I don’t know. I don’t even know if we should move on, when there’s still phantom blood on my hands.’’  
> He smiled, gazing over the rising sun  
> ‘‘What I do know is that I’ll be able to face whatever comes next, as long as I have you by my side.’’
> 
> \--------or; tommy and tubbo steal techno's fruit, and dream regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the- hold up one m o n t h long break?? o shit. sorry, i had some health stuff going on + the school system suxc and makes everyone develop imposter syndrome xd.  
> anyways here's the grand shining,, finale shit,, idfk.  
> TY FOR 1000 KUDOS POGCHAMP  
> -title from hometown by twenty one pilots, as usual an out of context line that's so EdgY wow  
> *TW: none! CW: mentions of war

There was a flicker of light, a brief burst of birdsong, and Tommy was awake.

Not that he’d ever been properly asleep. But somehow, in his hazy half-awareness, his weary legs had carried him here.

Atop the swirling night sky, he could see the first flashes of sunrise.

Burning red into his eyes, they resembled lava pools.

‘‘Tommy?’’ An uncertain voice broke the silence of those early hours

A hand clenched at his shoulders, and he suddenly realized that his unsteady feet were close enough to the roof’s edge to tip over some stray pebbles.

‘‘Hey Tubbo’’ he mumbled, voice thick with a tiredness that wasn’t just physical

‘‘I wasn’t gonna- do anything- yknow- It’s just been a rough couple of days’’

‘‘So you decided to climb up the roof at 3 am?’’

Ok, in retrospect that wasn’t exactly the most reasonable of decisions

‘‘Uh…yes?’’

Tubbo squinted at him suspiciously

‘‘…Ok, then. You do know you can tell me if something’s bothering you, though?’’

‘‘Of course. Why, how could you ever doubt me Tubbo, I’ll have you know I’m one of the most truthful and reasonable citizens on this fine land’’ he declared, raising a hand dramatically

Tubbo rolled his eyes in fondness

‘‘Sure, if that’s what helps you sleep.’’

Tommy slung his arm over the other playfully, tussling his hair in retaliation.

It felt nice to have calmer mornings like these, when Tubbo wasn’t holed up in his stuffy old office. Governing had taken its toll on him, and his smile seemed more weighed down than usual. But it was still the same smile, as welcoming and familiar as when they were kids, and Tommy found himself smiling a lot more with him, so he supposed he couldn’t complain.

A pang of guilt hit him, because despite what he’d told his friend Tommy could still feel the lingering nightmare.

‘‘Actually… I do need to get something off my chest’’ he began

He took Tubbo’s silence as a sign to continue, although the other looked at him with a worried gaze

‘‘Sometimes I still feel like I’m back there. Alone, because I drove everyone away. I know that it’s a little stupid, being stuck in the past, but sometimes it’s all too overwhelming. How do we move on when we have literal skeletons in our closets?’’

Tubbo was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke it was full of a tired happiness, wise beyond his years.

‘‘I don’t know. I don’t even know if we _should_ move on, when there’s still phantom blood on my hands.’’

He smiled, gazing over the rising sun

‘‘What I do know is that I’ll be able to face whatever comes next, as long as I have you by my side.’’

Tommy gave a laugh that sounded more life a half-sob

‘‘God, Tubbo, who would I be without you?’’

‘‘Yourself’’

And as Tommy stood above cliffs and clear blue pools, above a thousand conversations and grounds of history from the land that he’d fought and sacrificed for, he knew with burning warmth that he was home.

\-------------------------------------------

‘‘Dream.’’

Sapnap pursed his lips as he saw the lone figure approaching him

The man walked with his head lowered, dragging his feet, a far cry from the silently arrogant person he was used to

The masked man said nothing, simply sheathing his sword.

‘‘So. Tommy’s back’’

Sapnap gave a drawn out sigh

‘‘Yeah. But it’s their land, after all, and the kid’s been through a lot. I think you should just leave it be for now.’’

Dream shook his head

‘‘I’m not here to argue. I know I fucked up’’

At that, Sapnap furrowed his eyebrows. He knew the other had seemed shaken up recently but he wasn’t quite sure why. Still, he didn’t expect that response.

‘‘I’m a bad person, Sapnap.’’ Dream rasped

‘‘You’re not-’’

‘‘I wanted power and I lost my morals trying to get it. I know that now.’’

Sapnap stared, open mouthed. Dream seemed so much more- resigned than usual, and it sent a bit of dread up his spine.

‘‘Why the sudden change of heart?’’ he questioned

At this, Dream seemed to almost flinch

‘‘I’ve always had blood on my hands. It’s never really bothered me, but I’ve never had to look anyone in the eye during battle. But when you do- when you look into that person’s depths before you deliver that final blow- that’s when it all comes crashing out’’

‘‘Dream- Who did you kill?’’ Sapnap almost snapped, blood rushing in his ears

‘‘It’s not about who I killed, it’s about who I almost killed.’’ Came the exhausted response.

Sapnap felt more confused than ever, even more so when he saw the other taking off his armour and tossing away his weapons without a care.

‘‘yknow-’ Dream mumbled

‘‘I came here today because I wanted to ask you a favour’’

‘‘What-’’

‘‘I’ve never really had a home. Or atleast, somewhere that felt like home. I guess I never really wanted something people could use against me.’’

Dream gave a worn half smile under his mask

‘‘But now I’ve come to realize that leaving this place will still leave loose ends, because how hard I’ve tried- I’ve let myself get attached. It seems I’ve built a home for myself’’

He sighed again, flicking his armour into the embers of a starting fire as if it was nothing.

‘‘I don’t have anything I’d like you to protect or hoard, no houses for you to stand guard by. But if you can, sapnap, protect them. Protect yourself.’’ Dream said, handing over a photo

With a glance, sapnap realized that it was one of the dream team.

‘‘You guys are my home’’

‘‘Dream…what are you saying?’’ Sapnap asked, a tinge of desperation in his voice

‘‘I’m turning myself in.’’

\---------------

Tommy felt the grass under his feet, sunlight on the canopies of the wild forests he’d grown up in.

He saw the blur of familiar faces as he raced through the well-worn gravel paths, tubbo at his heels.

Despite being chased by a hoard of antagonized bees, there was laughter in his chest and nostalgia at the situation.

When they’d finally ducked behind a tree, Tubbo huffed, shoving his friend lightheartedly

‘‘You _idiot_!’’ he sputtered

‘‘Why did you think swinging a wooden sword around a tree filled with beehives would be a good idea?!’’

Tommy shrugged

‘‘Just because you’re an expert on those little freaks doesn’t mean I’m one’’

‘‘It’s literally _common sense_ \- You know what- what did I even expect from you at this point’’ Tubbo snickered

The two sat down under what Tommy now noticed was the L’mantree, running his hands over the old carvings.

‘It did bring back some good memories, though. Remember that time Phil had to fish us out of the lake after we jumped in to escape your pests?’’

‘‘Yeah, if you consider getting chased by bees a ‘good memory’. And I’ll have you know that my bees were not pests! They’re a very important part of our ecosystem and-’’

Tommy cut him off by hurling a golden apple at his friend, plucking his own from a nearby tree

‘‘Yknow, Techno’s gonna get mad if you eat all his fruit again’’ Tubbo said, taking a bite nonetheless.

‘‘Eh. He’ll just pretend, but we all know he’s a softy deep down’’

Tommy gazed up at the view around him. Lmanburg had had it’s ups and (many, many) downs, but in the end it would always be the one place he considered home.

Him and Tubbo, sitting carefree without Dream in sight, without the threat of yet another war, it felt just like old times

‘‘I _thought I told you little shits that my fruit was off limits-’_ ’

Yep, just like old times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O SHIT!!1!1 I HIT YALL WITH THAT MF DREAM ANGST!!11! dw lol i will,, maybe explore that in this series? i didnt expect to make a whole ass au lmao
> 
> On a serious note, thank you. Thank you guys for every comment, kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions. im getting kinda emotional here but yall are rlly so sweet (ive gotten a little anxious w replying to all the comments but i still read them and they make me happy stim on shitty days!! pls keep sending them!!)  
> This is the first multichap ive ever finished, most fics or challenges i write remain unfinished bc my mental health drops, they become too triggering to write, or i get too anxious writing the last chapter, but thanks to u guys i finished what was supposed to be a vent fic and also gained some lovely friends.
> 
> it has been a pleasure to write for u and i am truly grateful for this fandom. pls stay safe and take care  
> -san

**Author's Note:**

> never did i think i'd be projecting onto pixels from a game i played when i was 11 but here we are.  
> this isnt beta'ed whoops also fuckisns,, yell at me or send me fic prompts at @iamin19fandomshelp (p l e a s e) on tumblr where I do low effort shitposts,, maybe,, sometimes
> 
> kudos+ comments r very rad so i would appreciate it !!! (Pls comment I engrave ur words onto my heart!!) but above all, remember u r loved lads, and dont yall forget it 💞


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